O your Colonel,, as a father indemnified the door,
on Salisbury plains stamping to an interspace
of whispers that you are voiceless, again.
Inside Praepostor Business Class
a brig that sensation masts
another's Earldom, ancestries:
'I do not want to say any more
thank you very much'
Believe again, or sweat, or blood: nothing inside
the amp of shredded use values.
All the forms & images
in the world can be revoked
remembering your childhood
A carousel hologram of a boat race appears
foppish fair haired boys in oak quad sculls, singing:
‘What is a Stephen Christopher Yaxley?’
Logie Leggatt leads the line
chalks over thinly whose clear body was so pure, & mine
after a moment looking out at the roaring sea,
you ask what lies outside the White cliffs?
to a single sweetly reply;
daemons
that night-air claps & brisk’d my under cheek
the heraldic bleed, Blue boys swilling on the beach
Cooee! cooee!
A boat as good as brains!
that one man was much like another
said one man, on this vast floating army cum laude.
There are perks in chains of lead, said another.
Enterprise of England, our armada
in a ladened wraith, a dodo skeleton
in the morning you lay down
in the Recruitment Welfare Room,
crawl space of its office carpet broadloomed
& remember we ate all your Colonel,, as a fathers
cheese in Kennington standing on a June morning
hunched together.
It is dark now along the rim
& always dark & into my eyes
Bricklayers. Investors. Antecedents. Warfares.
O hanging from a steel pergola
a yawning feeling
the working-catharsis it hiccups & collapses, glitches
a flower filled consort of fair ideals. Bulk again,
of sweat, or blood: to nothing. Coat of arms,
So what then!
What will YOU do if agency workers cross the picket line,
mangled by a baying pauper nest,
a little vinyl puppet from the 1960s,
his Facebook profile picture was the Thunderbirds villain The Hood,, The Social Mobility Foundation,
a trove of skivers bone to bone, a breast outside
as the skies rain cheese for all but me.
I returned depleted in the Musket Club at the Garrison.
Start again. What lies outside the White cliffs?
a fallen head, a white corral of freezing networks
a six-rink grass bowling green
to a virtued mansard roof
under no boss in Jack of Plate toxing bed,
to stiffen in chartered hails
to eat Chartwells Free School Meals
milligram by milligram
Good over Evil,
Life over Death
depopulated centres enterprise children 2.0,
& God is here on little screens
above the concourse Sky News Broadcasts
a perpetual loop of Dark Justice
do you fuck kids to bleed in a line or switch in disguise
you & what army? in the morning emulsifying
under sunglass, a beating heart its raging quiver?
starbursts reflect non-permanent futures
a crown of tapered pilasters
its crony parvenu crawls out
of each in melamine
Yellow plaintive 5 year chembinge
the city wall is hell, as if in a mould;
where the lid or stopper turns grey-silver
like chainlinked around chrome
a superstition is nothing but belief
shined upon itself
in five stages of grief the multitude on the beach growing
& taking back a single sweet word drops out, but forgotten.
a starless sky the new dispensation sinks,
homme moyen sensuel
in the mouths of transmitted deprivation
one of the most totemic slogans of my life
‘What is a Stephen Christopher Yaxley?’
& you again,, deranged summoned forth your heart
the unnameable bodies
hectares splinters memories of home
by the lonely song you bring,,
take my sucking lips
sunned in splendours gold
its ‘social pathology’ under genebreaks
biblica last masoned breaks to bore no title,
brought up in the ancestral home,
Requiesce in pace to see the freezing
of my Yaxleys old panoply of grimoires
or now in venerated sprigs
over chalk breaks like Dover Straits
& listen to the quarter peal of Stedman Caters,
ringing as though sounding the tocsin
through heart thrugs to fading
an English light curls up my back
to tap on the hypercondensation
the window sneaks a think-tank
to translucent breached yew tree,
a coup operation; the Nationwide Festival of Light 1971
gradients of eternal bliss
a berry for later, snaps Peers
as the poverty lobby is galvanised to crypt it,
to bury falling through the stairway at Bevin Court,
the abolition of suffering
moral standards crossbenchers your name is bleach
covered in a thin bronze skin, the basement of the building.
& we could lay as Vladamir creaks out a whispered slue
in the central linking drum,
my eyes now glue
weeping on the gallery floors you watch from
the rooftop canopies,
its tapering & thinning air,
what is to be done with Hopton Wood Stone,
clipped now painted?
Bent ears to fagends
it moves at night sometimes near anti-pigeon spikes
pressing against the vulnerable white skin,
the skin of a living boy, the skin without blood gradually,
a chest without air, slackening thin stomach thinning
caving into an antedate
pure; strong, gradients of intelligent bliss orders
gone missing,
Y-shaped torn belthers on crimson thread, Yaxleys in the area.
Again lilies mercifully I foul, out to the wildernesses
to crypt it, yes,
this act weakened me but,
in a way, I have been cared for
yes, I am diminished
but I am also emboldened,
It feels like passion.
Curve over its magnitude, richer like god on wort
like the Future's portal upward still,
& onwards, is yours alone
so bend our Mayflower & steer boldly
through the desperate winter sea, return to us
that aching feeling, unresolved to be itself alone
a crushing, Dover traffic status update.
effective altruism phasing out suffering
here tonight under this bluelight
meld all bleating goodstrong people's blood,
that is good ¬ shitmud!
& I can see from fits of burning
rubber ever glowing, never receding
line of fealty choke,, s
a bliss state of sublime well-being
destined to become the feasibility of pains abolition
& the ethical choice Yaxleys hidden pickering to tilth.
O your Colonel,, as a father,
the fairest hushes of the wettest lips
& uttermost purpose the World Health Organisation
clangs under the jib of a needle
your own hands hijacked mid-hue
The Transmitted Deprivation Research Programme
of intergenerational Montgomeries glinting
the social market economy
a painless bite, a mother's love, the profoundest peace,
a Jupiter brain managed rundown
the utilitronium launches on pin-scales
& logarithmic pulses a single namesake:
the State,
a strike for your life! imp-
lore us; spectral Keith Josephs failing radiantly
abolish pain below the hedonic zero
& make all hearts to emulate its caustic preening,
the lumbar straits
the baseline Sir Keith's scolded Schlaraffenland
underneath the light there is always
intervening on the ground the pie-tree
fatlegged eating through a cloud of rice pudding;
on the other side of the fence the Organising Group
an empty apparition,
basted in votives spilling outwards
'familial processes' are responsible,
the gene code Generation Merit;
undog your living twilight
& soften swells scratching at the lid
to ferret out every weak spot
peel away each loose fleck
the future society is
log scales birched & falling levity
all things big & bright.
